Bound By Blood
by Lupinswolfie
Summary: By saving his life, she becomes hiswill he choose to keep her, or walk away a free man once and for all? One Shot


-1He was coming for her tonight, of that she was sure. She had saved his life a mere two years ago and, in exchange, he had shared his secrets with her. Not only his secrets, she mused as heat pooled to her center at the thought, but also his experience, his unbridled passion that no one, save her, was allowed to see, as well as his life. Two years ago tonight, he unwillingly became hers, but tonight, the bond would be broken and the choice would be his.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron had just finished speaking with Dumbledore, matching looks of shock on their now pale and tired faces as they digested all the new information from the last two days. Dumbledore had simply turned and walked out of his portrait as if going for a leisurely stroll.

"I thought you should know," Harry said quietly. "I…I had to do it this way, ya know. I couldn't think of any other way. I had to…"

"Die and hope for the best?" Hermione said with understanding.

"Yea," he replied quietly again, exhaustion clearly written across his sad, relieved features.

"Makes sense," Ron said after a few moments. Hermione took the time to realize, in that instant, that Ron had matured years in the matter of only a few days. The change was incredible, but she knew he'd always be 'Ron' no matter what. Just as Harry would always be Harry, no matter what amount of fame awaited him. Some people would never change, no matter what.

Hermione's mind drifted back to Severus Snape, to the one who saved them all, and she gasped in horror, her hands flying to cover her mouth as her eyes widened. "And we just left him there! We have to go back for his…his body at least."

"You're right," Harry agreed quickly. "Let's go back to…"

"There you are, you three! You must come back to the Great Hall before they tear the castle down looking for you!" McGonagall said sternly, making them all feel like rule-breaking children instead of the sudden war heroes they were destined to be made out as.

The final battle had taken its toll on her as well, it appeared. Her clothes were as torn and dirty as theirs, blood had trickled down her cheek and splattered amongst the dirt, and her cheeks were stained with a thick trail that only tears could make. Quietly, as she looked at them as if for the first time, she added, "Come along, let us get this over with."

"Ginny?" Harry asked numbly, suddenly desiring the feel of her in his arms.

"She is quickly becoming hysterical while Molly tries to keep her from looking for you, Potter."

"Gods, Professor, how can I face them?" Harry asked with a shaky voice.

The toll of the war, of his own actions, was quickly catching up to Harry, but, instead of consoling him as she should have done, Hermione felt herself thinking about Snape's body, still lying on the dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack. Very quietly, she slipped Harry's Invisibility Cloak around her body and disappeared, slowly making her way unnoticed to the Whomping Willow.

Her nerves were frayed, her hair a wild mass around her shoulders and down her back, and her eyes showed the lack of sleep she had endured over the last 48 hours. It was her mind, however, which drove her on. Something about the man didn't make sense to her, although she couldn't say exactly what it was, and something about his death and her current thoughts of him left her feeling more than a touch uneasy. Surely, she thought as she entered the tunnel, it was only the shameful feelings of leaving a hero's body in a dusty house.

She crawled along the now familiar path that led to the Shrieking Shack itself, wand lit and ready in the dank, cramped, and dark passageway. As she neared the house, she was assaulted by the noxious odors of blood, death, and unwashed human. The house itself showed its recent use in the unsettled dust, the straightened furniture, and the Conjured items that hadn't been there during her first visit. She barely registered those details before walking over to Snape once more, just like she had only hours before, and looking down at his prone, lifeless body; the true hero of the war and not the traitor they had all thought him to be.

Her breath caught in her throat when she heard a moan fall from his lips. "Professor!" she cried, running the last few feet to him and kneeling beside him, her torn and dirty clothing now becoming bloody as well, but she didn't notice as she timidly pushed his hair from his face. "My gods you're alive!"

She gasped when his heavy eyelids fluttered open and his dark gaze came to rest on her face.

"You came," he rasped, and she couldn't tell if he was asking her why or relieved that she was there.

"We…we need to get you out of here. I'll run get help. Hold on, Professor, I'll be right back."

She started to rise, but his hand grabbed her wrist and, with surprising strength, he pulled her back to him. "Not help." He forced the words from his lips. "Need to feed."

"Feed?" she asked in obvious confusion before she noticed his eyes had turned a vivid violet and she suddenly understood. Understood why he was always so pale and why he didn't seem to age in all the time she had known him.

He nodded slowly, as though the slight movement hurt him.

"It's true?" she asked in awe. "The rumors are true, then?" He nodded again, then closed his eyes and grimaced in pain.

"Where?" she asked quietly.

His eyes flew open to meet hers. He understood her question and answered silently by allowing his gaze to linger on her wrist that he had dropped moments ago.

She moved closer to his head. "This, um, might hurt a bit," she said shakily, lifting his upper body and allowing it to rest against hers as she tried desperately not to think about what she was doing; not to think about who this man had been to her in the past--he was no longer the Death Eater professor, but a misunderstood, dying man who needed her help. He groaned and paled even further, now whiter than any sheet she had ever seen, but gave no indication he was in pain otherwise.

Slowly, as she cradled his fairly limp upper body in her lap, she placed her shaking right hand in front of his mouth. "Go on," she encouraged and was pleased that her voice didn't shake as well, "take it."

And he did. After one swipe of his tongue along her sensitive wrist, his fangs extended and he bit into her tender flesh. She tensed, waiting for a pain that never came before slowly relaxing and giving herself over to the euphoric feelings he produced. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. Her body started singing and parts of her that had never been touched before began to throb and ache for him. Her kiss with Ron--was it only hours ago?--had left her so completely sure that she'd never crave a man's touch like most women seemed to. But now, as she became light-headed and dizzy, she wanted to feel Severus Snape's mouth all over her body, not just on her wrist. The darkness claimed her before giving her a chance to evaluate her new and rather disturbing desires.

She had awoken hours later to find a very healthy and very healed ex-professor staring down at her. Struggling to sit up and regain her composure, she was surprised when he gently pushed her back down.

"Rest," he commanded. "You're too weak to stand."

"You look better," she said weakly as she complied and settled back down onto the obviously Conjured blanket.

"Yes, thanks to you of all people." He closed his eyes for a moment and she could tell he was going to say something that would leave a bad taste in his mouth. "You have saved my life, Miss Granger, and that is not something I'm prepared to take lightly."

"It's not a big deal, Professor. Not after all you've done."

His face twisted in fury for a scant few seconds before he regained his composure. "Do not set me to be a hero, Miss Granger, I feel you would be sorely disappointed."

"Did you…" she found herself unable to finish the horrific thought.

"Turn you?" he scoffed. "Hardly."

"What will you do now?"

Her question surprised him for a moment. Then, he grinned, a wicked grin that she had never seen before and that scared her and excited her down to her very core. "I cannot go far from you now, Miss Granger. We are bound."

"Bound?!"

"Yes." He sighed in resignation. "Bound by the calling and bound by your virginity."

Was that a sneer?

"My what?! What business is that of yours?"

"Please keep your screeching to a minimum," he said briskly. "What do you know of vampires, Miss Granger?"

She sat up shakily, weak, but able, and he offered her no assistance as he waited for her answer. "Aside from the obvious, you mean?" He nodded. "Not much, really."

"Allow me to explain. When a vampire is dying, they unconsciously send out a calling, much like a distress signal. The one who is meant to receive that calling is the only one who can save them. They are then bound to that person for two years. A wizard, however, is also bound by the life bond as well."

"Bound? I don't want us to be bound, sir," she said. Only the excitement of learning something new shown brighter than her wide-eyed horror.

"Unfortunately, Miss Granger, we have no say in the matter. Even more unfortunately," he sneered, "we will have no control either. I must apologize for putting you in such a position, but, as you were the one to answer the calling, it cannot be helped."

"Calling? I heard no calling." She could feel her strength returning and wondered briefly, as the sun shown brightly in the room above, but not down on them, exactly what time it was.

His gaze met hers. "You didn't?"

"No, I only came to…to take your body back. I simply couldn't leave you here, it felt wrong," she answered hesitantly.

"If that is the case," he replied, ignoring the fact that she would do such a thing for him, "then your virginity may possibly remain intact."

Hermione colored instantly. "My what? What does that have to do with anything? How did you even know?" she screeched, her cheeks turning even redder as her embarrassment increased.

"There will be many circumstances that you will find yourself unable to control in the next two years, at least try and control your emotions," he admonished as he pinched the bridge of his large nose.

"But what if I wasn't called?"

"The fact remains that you came and that your blood was able to heal me."

"How do we know if we're bound?" she asked timidly after a short lull in their strange conversation. The man before her still had the ability to scare her whereas Voldemort lost his when she thought he killed Harry. Ironic.

"There's a simple, but potentially painful test."

"Do it," she said quickly.

"If it works, it will hurt one of us. You, only if we are not bound."

"Fine," she said irritably now, "just get it over with."

He walked to stand in front of her and before she knew what was happening, he raised his hand to strike her. She flinched from the contact that never came. Instead, he grabbed his head in his hands and growled in pain.

"Professor, are you…are you alright?"

"No, I'm not bloody alright!" he snarled. "The binding prevents me from harming you in any way. Therefore, by attempting to strike you, I am punished."

She couldn't be sure in her horrified state of mind, but she thought she heard him mumble something that sounded remarkably like "another master."

"So we are bound then?" she asked tearfully. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means, Miss Granger, that I will crave you in ways neither one of us ever imagined in our worst nightmares. Your blood, your body, your very breath will be mine to claim."

"I hardly doubt you can convince me to allow that, Professor!" she said heatedly.

"Do not interrupt me! Do you think this is something I want? But," he added, his face softening into a smirk, "you will crave me in the same way. And I, unfortunately, will allow it."

"I cannot believe what I'm hearing. I'm sorry, Professor, but this is ludicrous. I am happy I was able to help you survive, but that's as far as this will go." She turned to walk away from him.

He had laughed then, mocking her as though she were a ridiculous child. "You will go back to the others, join their celebrations and such without mentioning having seen me. My body just disappeared as far as you lot are concerned," he snarled. "When the time is right, you will understand. You will believe."

"Professor, forgive my saying so, but I fear you may be rather delusional."

"Go, Miss Granger! I am tired of discussing something as atrocious as our impending," he grimaced, "relations. Wherever you go, I will find you."

Hermione had to chuckle at the memory. It was rather comical when she thought about it; the idea that she would be able to control herself. She couldn't. Not a single time that he had visited her had she had control of her faculties. Immediately after she left him in the shack, she began to crave him. Oh, she didn't know it at the time, she chuckled, but she soon learned.

The first night he came to her she had tried desperately to ignore him. Then, thoughts of his hands roaming along her body, his mouth kissing a trail along her breasts and down her belly, his large cock sliding inside of her virgin passage came unbidden, and she was lost in a multitude of wanting and needing such as she had never felt before. Most surprising of all was that she was the one to walk across the room to him. Granted, she had no idea what she was doing, she only knew what her body was demanding of her.

Her relationship with Ron had progressed to the heavy petting often associated with young love, but nothing her young love had done to that point came close to how Severus Snape made her feel with just one heated look. He had explained to her that, although they didn't have a choice with their actions, they could certainly choose how they dealt with them. They had decided, together, that they would maturely explore each other with open minds; giving and taking freely from the other and keeping their association unknown to others and completely separate from their other lives.

And so it began. Hermione went to work in the Department of Mysteries, moved into a small flat of her own, and continued to date Ron. She attended all the required functions and parties after the war, tried to stay close to her friends, and eventually made love to her boyfriend. She simply told him she was indeed a virgin, and with his lack of experience, he readily believed her, assuming that her carnal knowledge was related to books she had read and not personal experience.

Her nights, however, belonged to _him_. He had taken her virginity two nights after the events in the Shrieking Shack, explaining to her that he could taste the pureness in her blood and that her own body would not have allowed another man to have her before him. She had demanded he explain the entire experience to her beforehand, and after rolling his eyes and trying to dissuade her, he had done just that--and she had never felt such all-consuming pleasure in her entire world. When his teeth sank into her neck that time, she felt the euphoria and it heightened her pleasure to such an extent she thought she would die, but he refused to allow her to succumb, licking her wounds closed and taking her again until her body ached from quivering and her throat felt raw from screaming her pleasure.

What he did during the day remained a secret to her, but after a while, he began to share a part of himself with her and she gradually came to truly know him. Their affair was strange to say the least. No words of love or promises for the future were ever exchanged, but the heat and passion in his touch seemed to speak volumes to her naïve ears and before long, she fancied herself in love with the vampire bound to her.

But she refused to be mocked and so chose to keep her emotions to herself, while still reveling in his touch. Within a year, he had progressed from passionate shagging and leaving quickly, to savoring her as his own and cradling her to him afterwards. Those were the times she drank down like a deprived woman…the times when he was truly hers and she, in turn, belonged to him. He didn't come to her nightly, only a few times a week, but as time progressed, she noticed that he came by on occasion just to ask her opinion about something before quickly popping out again. Or, he would drop off the newest copy of _Potions Monthly _and later, when they lay sated in each other's arms, ask what she believed to be true and what she believed to be a hoax. He became a companion to her in the late evenings, giving her intelligent conversation, amazing nights of unbridled passion that Ron could never hope to compare to, and always leaving her wishing he was back again.

Severus had shown her the joys of role playing as well, and she shivered in her silky green nightgown as she thought of her favorite. She had been scared the first time she felt his presence only to have a blindfold wrap around her eyes, her clothing briskly removed, and her body pushed roughly against the wall by his own hard, naked body. As her naked breasts were flattened against the cool wall, his hot breath skirted against her ear. "You may fight if you like," he had purred suggestively. "I daresay we would both find it rather enjoyable." So frightened was she at the time that she had fought him, begged him to stop before he had barely even touched her, only to find herself thrown onto the bed and her body ravished in such ways that made her burn just by thinking about it. She had fought hard at first, screaming for him to stop and knowing all the while that he wouldn't. But as her hands were bound, she noticed that nothing he did hurt her physically and remembered that he was unable to do so. Immediately her fighting became less fierce and more pleading as he roughly entered her tight heat and took her to new heights of pleasure and experience.

There seemed to be a sixth sense between the two as well. Never when Ron spent the night would Severus, which he demanded she call him only weeks into the affair, come by. And she could tell when he had no intention of seeing her as well. But when he did, when his teeth sank into her neck and his cock sank into her tight heat, she felt her world was complete like never before. It was only then that the stars aligned as they should and her world settled into place.

Tonight was the second anniversary of their binding--tonight it would end. They had discussed this night only two nights ago and he had explained that after he drank from her and lay with her this last time, the bond would be broken and they would be free. It was also on this day that Ron had proposed to her, asking her to marry him and spend her life solely with him for eternity.

"Your body hums with the magnitude of your thoughts, Hermione," he purred silkily against her ear, knowing she wouldn't hear him enter the room.

She leaned back against him, loving the comfortable way his arms now encircled her instead of the way they used to become rigid from her touch. He had taught her about sex, but she had, in turn, unknowingly taught him about intimacy.

"You came," she sighed.

He gently moved the hair from her neck, bending his head slightly to lick along her delicious pulse point and smirking against her skin when she tilted her head and moaned softly. "Of course I came," he said silkily, "tonight is our last night, Hermione. As of yet, we still have no control over our actions."

He began slowly walking her to the bed and she wondered briefly why he wouldn't allow her to turn around and face him. Perhaps he was thankful that tonight was the last night, perhaps he didn't wish to see her again after this. Either way, she was determined to take what she could from tonight and keep it locked tightly within her heart.

His hands slid up her arms, raising bumps of flesh along the way, until they came to rest on her bare shoulders. Gently, he slipped the thin straps of her nightgown back down her arms and let the material pool on the floor around her. As his hands moved around to cup her breasts, she moaned quietly and leaned further into him as she unconsciously tilted her head for his access. With an unseen smirk, he lowered his mouth and nipped along her flesh. "Not yet, witch, but soon," he murmured quietly, his tongue darting out and tracing the lines of her shoulder and neck while her entire body began to quiver slightly in anticipation.

The large hands encasing her pert breasts began to move and knead her tenderly, but when he roughly pinched one of her nipples, she arched her back and the breath hissed from between her teeth. In retaliation, she slowly moved one hand from his forearm and placed it between them behind her, grabbing his erection in her small hand and squeezing roughly. His groan was her reward and she reveled in the feel of him grinding his hips into her hand without conscious thought.

"Naughty witch," he admonished playfully.

"Severus, let me turn around," she pleaded. "Let me touch you."

His motions stilled and for a moment she thought he was leaving her. "Do you want me or not?" he snarled suddenly, making her flinch at his tone. When she nodded, he added, "then be still and let me touch you." Had she not been so absorbed in her own yearnings, she wouldn't have missed this catch in his voice, and had she eyes in the back of her head, she would have seen the pain that momentarily flashed through his own eyes when the thought of this being their last time came to mind. In short, she would have known he was unable to look at her…to look at what he would no longer have.

Before she knew what was happening, he pushed her forward onto the bed, hands and knees supporting her as he quickly disrobed in the way only vampires could do and climbed behind her. He gently moved her hair away from her neck and began planting soft kisses along her shoulder, down her back, and back up again, silently marveling at the way her slightly tan skin shown brightly in the moonlight. Stifling the thought, he moved his hands to her waist, holding her tightly as he positioned his large cock at her entrance and slowly entered her willing body. She whimpered immediately and he savored the familiarity of the sound before rocking his hips slowly and pushing further into her.

"So tight," he hissed, "always so tight, witch."

With that, he forced her to take him completely, shoving himself inside her tight passage and withdrawing quickly, only to plunge into her depths once more. Her hips bucked backwards and her moans and screams fell from her mouth in a chorus of ecstasy as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Severus!" she screamed, in a demand or plea she knew not.

Suddenly, he pulled her up, pulling her back against his body as his arms wound tightly around her ribs, pushing her down slightly as he thrust inside her again. He raised her arms up over his head and she wrapped them around him tightly, moaning when his fingertips trailed back down her body, toying with her nipples and grazing her heated flesh before one hand slid down to pinch her clit roughly, making her scream his name again as her world came undone and she climaxed around him tightly.

"Gods, Severus, please don't stop," she cried, before whimpering quietly, "please don't ever stop."

His motions stilled once more, the pain she couldn't see clearly written in his far from handsome features. When she moved to turn in his arms, knowing she shouldn't have said what she did, he pushed her forward. In the next moment, she was lying face down on her bed, his own sweat-slickened body covering hers deliciously as his lips slid from shoulder to shoulder. His hands moved from her hips, trailing along her body and down her arms before catching the back of her hands in his palms. Grasping them firmly beside her head, he entwined her fingers with his own before slowly sliding his large erection into her tight center once more. He was possessing her for the last night with such a beautiful vengeance that she was sure her heart would break and her soul would never heal.

His fangs extended and, after a languid lick along her pulse point, he sank them into his witch for the last time, swearing he would never taste another so sweet. The realizations hit her only moments before her body shattered around his once again, this time bringing him over the edge with her as the familiar feelings of euphoria swept over her and she felt herself go limp, never again blacking out like she did the first time, but enjoying the sensations like nothing she would ever experience again. And she knew; in those last moments she knew that no matter what he decided, she could never go on living her mediocre life the way she had. There was more to experience out there than what she currently held--a man she loved, but only as a friend, a job that never challenged her, and a life that she no longer wanted to lead.

"Don't leave me, Severus," she whimpered as he withdrew from her neck, sealing the wound with his tongue and moving off her quickly. The words had left her mouth before she knew what she had said, but she didn't regret it. She would risk the heartbreak, the ridicule in his words, just for the chance to be with him. "Severus?" she asked meekly, turning her head to see him, fully clothed already, looking at her with something akin to hatred.

"What would you like for me to say, Hermione?" he snarled. "Do you want me to express lies of love and happily ever after? I am not the man you want, nor am I the man you need. And I," he added sharply, "am free for the first time in my life."

Without a backward glance in her direction, he leapt from the window and she watched through her tears as he flew away for the last time, her young heart laying shattered on the floor around her. He was free now, and she was forever enslaved to him.

Three weeks later found Hermione staring out the window, silent tears streaming down her face as she opened it to allow the breeze to blow in. She had changed things in her life rather dramatically over the last three weeks, but the thing she wanted, what she craved so desperately she ached from it, she would never see again and it tore at her every time she stared into the night.

"Hermione?!" she heard Harry shout.

Wiping her eyes hastily and throwing a robe around her, she called back, "Up here, Harry!"

He stormed through the room, Ron right on his heels with an apologetic look on his face. "How could you, Hermione? You've been with Ron for two years now! How could you NOT agree to marry him?"

"Harry, stop! Let's just go!" Ron pleaded with his best friend.

"No, I want answers. Something has been going on with you and I want to know what it is," he demanded of Hermione.

Anger and shame stormed through her. Only Harry, her closest friend, would have called her on the changes she had made lately--her desire to be alone, to change her life away from the mundane existence it had become---only he would dare question her about it. Along with that knowledge came the shame, knowing Ron had done nothing wrong, that he was even now trying to give her the space she had asked of him, and she had simply broken his heart.

As she took a step in their direction, her foot caught on the hem of her hastily tied robe and she toppled backwards with a startled yelp. Before Ron or Harry could catch her, she felt herself falling from the high window.

"Hermione! NO!" she heard Harry and Ron yell from above.

Closing her eyes, she waited for the painful impact that never came. Instead, she felt herself caught in _his _embrace; the smell of his cologne assaulting her senses as she wound her arms around his neck and he lowered them both slowly to the ground.

"I thought you were gone forever," she sniffed, emotions charging through her.

He set her feet on the ground and held her until she managed to steady herself. Instead of releasing him, however, she pulled him in closer as soft sobs racked her small frame. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her and gently held her to him, finding himself lost in the feel of her once more as he nuzzled her neck and refused to contemplate his actions. Slowly, Severus released his hold on Hermione and allowed her to compose herself before he tried to step away from her.

"You're safe now."

"I crave you still," she whispered, her wet, brown eyes locked with his violet ones.

With a resigned sigh, he replied, "And I you, but I must go now."

As Harry and Ron tore through the gate on the far side of the yard and ran to her, Severus waited for the yelling to begin, but Harry managed to surprise them both with a softly whispered, "You're alive?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, Potter, I am alive," Severus answered quietly, his arm slipping from Hermione's waist to land by his own side.

"How is that…it's not…" Harry stammered before turning to Hermione. "You knew?" he accused. "Is this what's been happening to you lately? You're with him?"

"Harry," she said hastily, "I can explain."

Severus, however, interrupted. "I was not killed two years ago, Potter, because I cannot be killed in such a way."

"A stake through the heart," Ron mumbled sarcastically.

"Observant, for a change, Mister Weasley. I would almost be impressed if it weren't for your obvious lack of understanding."

"You mean you're a…no," Harry said forcefully.

Rolling his eyes, Severus flashed his fangs, irritated eyes turning violet as he glared at the young men before him who both stepped backwards in shock and fear.

"Honestly, Severus, you simply can't go around scaring them like that," Hermione admonished, her grin belying her true intentions.

"With these two," he snarled, "instant gratification is the only way."

"What does this have to do with Hermione?" Ron asked quietly.

"Nothing. Not any longer."

"What does that mean? Not any longer."

"It means, Mister Weasley, that we are no longer bound. And, as I just saved her from an untimely death, we are not bound by the life bond either. Therefore, we are not bound at all."

"Bound?"

"I was dying two years ago, she saved me, binding us together for the course of the last two years. The time is up, she is free." His words were clipped, punctuated by a feeling Hermione couldn't place, but the second he said that _she _was free instead of _himself_, she knew that all was not lost.

Ron, however, added voice to her thoughts. "What if she doesn't wish to be?" he asked sadly.

"What are you babbling about, Weasley?"

"Nothing. Only, I just realized that for the last two years, I've been in love with a woman whose heart belonged elsewhere." He shrugged his shoulders with a dejected sadness and Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes. Ron had matured, but it wasn't his fault that he couldn't compare to Severus; it was hers, for loving the wrong man. "It's quite obvious now that I know the facts. She's never once looked at me the way she was looking at you. Now I know."

Harry's gaze flickered back and forth between Ron and Hermione and Severus, whose eyes were locked with Ron's as if trying to find a hidden meaning behind his words…a trap of sorts that he would refuse to fall into. Hermione had only tears running down her cheeks as she remained, for once, silent as she watched Ron turn and walk away from her.

"There's a lot I pictured myself saying to you, if ever given the chance, but now," Harry said, "I don't have anything to say at all, to either of you."

With that, he too turned and walked away from them, leaving his best friend heart broken once more.

"Come, witch," Severus said, pulling her into his arms.

It was only when he bent to climb through the open window that she realized he had flown her back up to room. "Severus, I…I don't know what to do anymore. When I had you, when we were together, I was able to keep my other life separate. I was able to pretend to be in love with my boyfriend, to pretend to care that my best friend hadn't changed after marrying Ginny, and to pretend that I cared about anything. When you left, it all fell apart. Then I realized," her lip quivered as she struggle to maintain control and refused to look at him, "it wasn't the binding that made me crave you, it was you. Our conversations, our arguments, the way you possess me so completely. And I realized I wanted to belong to you forever."

When she finally lifted her eyes to his, she saw the warring emotions they held.

"Foolish girl," he mumbled before capturing her lips with his own.

She knew he wouldn't say the words she was longing to hear, but he would show her instead. He would drag her down to the depths of hell just pull her back up once more, and she would willingly follow him there. She wouldn't try to change the man that he was, the one she had fallen for so completely, but she would love him for who he was, for sarcastic wit, for his intelligence, and for his dark grace. She would hold Severus Snape dear and spend her life with him--for eternity if he'd allow it.


End file.
